At dawn, Dominic stood outside Aurora's apartment, his knocks sharp and controlled. When she opened the door, bleary-eyed, her face lit up—until she saw his expression. Her joy evaporated.
Dominic didn't give her a chance to speak. He pushed past, tossing a stack of papers onto the coffee table: security stills, audio transcripts, hospital records—a silent tribunal laid bare in the morning light.
"Explain," he said, his voice chillingly calm.
Aurora's face went white, but she forced a smile. "What do these prove? Clara's just too fragile to handle a little truth, and that's my fault?"
"You deliberately broke her mother's heirloom necklace."
"She pushed me first, so I—"
"You humiliated her in public at the coffee shop."
"I was just being honest!" Aurora's voice spiked, a flash of ven
